


The Death Song of Uther Pendragon

by rubberglue



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-24
Updated: 2012-10-24
Packaged: 2017-11-16 23:24:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/544968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubberglue/pseuds/rubberglue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>5.03 from Gwen's POV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Death Song of Uther Pendragon

**Author's Note:**

> Overall, I enjoyed the episode but I hated how Gwen was sidelined again. So I figured I would work through my annoyance by writing the episode from her POV.

Standing on the steps of the courtyard, she waved off her husband and best friend. A smile graced her face and she shook her head fondly. Hunting, Arthur had said but Gwen knew better. It was really just an excuse for the two of them to pretend that they didn’t have the responsibility of the whole kingdom on their shoulders, wander the outskirts of Camelot a little, act like kids before returning to their duties. She expected them back in a few hours, empty-handed, with Arthur blaming Merlin as usual for their lack of success.

They returned while she was speaking with the council about some local matters and she knew immediately that something was wrong. With barely a touch of his hand on her shoulder, Arthur slid into the seat next to her and beckoned them to continue, nodding absently as they spoke. Gwen didn’t need to look at him to realise he was barely listening.

“You did the right thing,” she murmured that night in his embrace after he told her of the sorceress. 

He swallowed and his arms tightened around her. “She still died.”

“Maybe it’s time to -” She left the thought hanging. He gave a curt nod, acknowledging her but said nothing. Unwilling to push the subject, not on this day and not after what happened, Gwen simply snuggled deeper into his arms, eyes closing as he kissed her hair.

As the rays of the morning sun penetrated her closed eyes, she stretched and turned, expecting to bump into the warm wall that was Arthur’s chest but there was nothing. 

“Arthur?” she murmured as she stretched her arm out in search of him, struggling to open her eyes. Sleep still blurred her vision but she heard footsteps coming towards her. Soon, she felt the bed sink and Arthur brushed his lips across her forehead. 

“Good morning.”

Her lips curled into a smile and she hummed in approval. “You are up early.” Sitting up, she looked at him and noted the tension in his eyes. The fog in her brain cleared and she remembered what this day was. Noise from outside signalled that preparations were underway and she glanced up at Arthur who stood stiffly at the window, staring out. Wrapping the heavy blanket around herself, she left the bed and walked to him.

“Happy birthday.” Her fingers curled around his hand and he squeezed them in response. “Come,” she murmured. “You should be happy today.” Tugging his hand, she led him back to bed. When he smiled and pulled her to him as he landed on the bed, she laughed and let the blanket drop.

While Arthur appeared to be in a better mood that morning, by evening, during his birthday feast, Gwen could tell that he was thinking of his father again. As little as she thought of Uther, she knew how much Arthur loved him and how much his sudden death haunted him. They spoke of it often, usually under the cover of darkness, in bed curled around each other, both of them sharing the common pain that came with losing a parent suddenly. 

Yet no amount of talking could persuade Arthur that he didn’t need his father’s approval, that he didn’t need to rule Camelot the way his father did. He was blind when it came to Uther. It used to make her angry and often they had many fights over this but now, into their fourth year of marriage, Gwen had learned to accept that Arthur was simply unable to see that his father was not the great king Arthur believed he was and there was no need to live up to that mythical status he imbued his father with.

Mordred was staring, probably wondering why Arthur was sulking through his birthday feast. Gwen watched as Elyan spoke to the newest knight and sighed inwardly. 

“Arthur, at least attempt to smile,” she murmured as she placed a hand on his thigh. 

He leaned over and instinctively, she moved closer to him. “I’ve to go,” he whispered. She barely felt his lips ghost across her cheek before he stood and walked out of the room, no doubt to go brood in his father’s mausoleum, one of the few places in the castle she had never been before.

“I miss him. I wish he was still here, see how Camelot has grown, give me advice when I’m troubled.” 

The candles had been put out before he climbed into bed, so Gwen rolled her eyes, safe in the knowledge that he wouldn’t see it. It was the usual lament Arthur made every year on his birthday and before, she would attempt to make him see how he wasn’t alone. After all, he had her, Merlin, the knights. But when he was feeling sorry for himself, Gwen learned quite quickly that it would be easier to draw blood from stone than to change his mind. It was a good thing this mood of his never lasted. By the next evening, something would happen to cheer him up - be it a villager expressing thanks for something he did, his knights performing some great dead or the two of them managing to find some time alone in their busy schedules - and his mood would break and he’d be more like the King she married not Uther’s son. 

So as he lamented his loneliness, Gwen simply snuggled into her pillow and fell asleep.

The next day, Gwen was quite aware that Arthur and Merlin were missing. While it was unusual for them to run off without telling her, she was so caught up with her duties that she barely thought about it. Perhaps Arthur felt a hunt would cheer him up. Like Merlin, she didn’t see how killing innocent animals for the fun of it could even feel good but if it shook him out of his mood, she was all for it.

The two of them returned in the afternoon, just before Arthur was due to convene a council meeting. Much to her disappointment, not only did Arthur look even more miserable than he did in the morning, Merlin too looked troubled. She watched worriedly as the two of them entered the council chambers. It was time for Leon to give his weekly report on the status of the armory and other such knightly things. After she attended the first session, she had begged off, telling Arthur that there was no reason she needed to listen to Leon read out stocktake details, hinting that this was something best left to him to handle. Arthur had narrowed his eyes at her suggestion but didn’t ask her to attend it again. She did, as she assured Arthur, read the accompanying written report thoroughly. 

“Did you hear what happened?”

“I did!” The servant’s voice dropped to a whisper and Gwen had to strain to hear them. “I think there’s a ghost in the castle.”

Before she could think better, Gwen made a noise of disbelief, startling the two servants. Quickly, they turned to face her and bowed.

“My lady.”

“Tell me, what are these ghosts you speak of?”

Nervously, one of the servants told her of the strange going ons in the kitchens and the council chambers. Although she thought their story was more exaggeration than truth, Gwen tried to maintain her composure. It would do no good for her to laugh, not in front of these two who were obviously shaken.

“I’m sure those were just coincidences. Why would there be ghosts here?” She smiled at the servants, placing what she hoped was a comforting hand on Elsie’s shoulder.

Elsie swallowed then peered back at the corridor behind her. “I heard noises coming from there. I’m scared my lady. Do you think that I might leave for home now?”

Gwen nodded. “Sure. Roland, would you like to leave early too?”

Eyes wide, the other servant nodded. Muttering their thanks, the two servants scurried off. Gwen sighed as she watched them leave. Ghosts. They were young and their imaginations wild. 

Then she heard something break in the corridor Elsie had indicated before. Her heart sped up even as she told herself she was being silly. Taking a deep breath, she walked towards the corridor, determined to prove to herself that there was really nothing.

And that was the last thing she remembered. 

Her head hurt. That was her first thought. Her second thought was that she definitely wasn’t in her bed. The one she was lying on now was too hard and small to be the same as the one she shared with Arthur. Her eyes felt heavy, as if she hadn’t opened them in days. When she did, light blinded her and she blinked. Somebody hovered over her and she could hear people talking but she was feeling lightheaded and confused. She must have moved or made a noise because someone called her name and then warm hands smoothed over her hair. The touch was familiar. 

Arthur.

“Guinevere.” She could hear the tears in his voice and she frowned slightly. Immediately, his thumb stroked her forehead. “How are you feeling?”

Now used to the bright lights, she noticed Merlin and Gaius standing in the corner of the room, staring at her with worry in their eyes. Something must have happened. Something bad. Had Morgana returned? She struggled to sit up, ignoring the pounding in her head and again Arthur was there, his arms around her, helping her.

“Guinevere, please. Say something.” He was so close. If the bed wasn’t so small, she was pretty sure Arthur would have been cuddled next to her on it.

“Why am I here? What happened?” The words came out hoarse and Arthur winced at them. The three men glanced at each other and Gwen knew from the look on their faces that they were planning to lie to her. But she was exhausted, her head hurt and so she let them. Merlin told her some story of how she had slipped and fallen and hit her head. She merely nodded.

The moment they finished spinning their lie, she turned to Arthur who was still stroking her hair. "I want to go back to our room."

“Of course.”

She always felt safe in Arthur’s arms and this time was no different has he insisted on carrying her to their chambers. Gently, he placed her in bed and fussed over her, dressing her in her nightgown, covering her with the blankets and tucking her in. Finally, when she could no longer take his fussing, she placed a hand on his.

“Arthur. Tell me the truth.”

Guilt and fear clouded his eyes and he sighed deeply before settling down on the bed next to her. One hand holding hers, he said nothing for a while, although his lips moved as if he was struggling with his words. 

“Unless you were the one who beat me up, I can’t imagine the truth to be that bad.”

“I might as well have been,” he said quietly. “Guinevere. If I had known this would happen, that you would be so hurt I -”

Annoyed that he still hadn’t answered her question, she pulled her hand from his. “Just tell me what happened. I deserve that at least.”

And the whole sordid tale came out from him in bits and pieces, disjointed, punctuated with apologies. With every word, her heart seemed to hurt even more and the dark anger that swirled in her was something she had never experienced before. She was angry that Uther still had the power to hurt her and those she loved even after death. She was angry that Arthur had lied to her and not told her of his plans. But most of all, she was angry that Arthur was still looking for validation from his father even when he had it in droves from those around him. When Arthur finally stopped talking, she turned away, unwilling to look at him. 

“I’m so sorry Gwen.” 

“I’m tired,” she muttered into her pillow, keeping her eyes shut. She didn’t want to deal with all the emotions coursing through her at the moment. Her head still hurt and she was sure if she spoke with Arthur, she would say things she might regret. 

Arthur wasn’t in bed when she awoke the next morning but Merlin was bustling around her chambers, setting out breakfast. Her head throbbed with every movement she made but she still sat up, clutching her blanket to her.

“Merlin.”

“Gwen! Oh, you’re up. I have to call Arthur.” He dashed to the door, then stopped. “How are you feeling?” 

“Sore. What about you? Arthur said the - the ghost hurt you as well.”

The smile Merlin gave her didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m fine. Don’t worry.”

“Why? Why would Arthur think that bringing his father back would be a good thing?”

“That’s something you should ask him I think,” Merlin said. “I’ll go get him.”

While she waited for Arthur to arrive, she gingerly make her way towards the table. The smell of breakfast was making her stomach grumble and she wondered when it was she last ate. She was chewing on some grapes when Arthur entered hesitantly. At the foot of the table, he stopped as if waiting for her response.

“Arthur.”

“Guinevere. How are you feeling?”

“Not too bad. I made it from the bed here on my own.”

He crossed over to where she was and sat next to her, taking her hands in his. “I’m sorry.”

She said nothing, the anger from last night had dissipated and all she felt was a deep sense of sadness that Arthur was still so obsessed with his father.

“I’ve been thinking about my father. He - “

Putting her hand on his, she said quietly but firmly, “If you’re going to make excuses for him, I don’t want to hear them.” Arthur winced at her words and while it made her feel bad, it was time Arthur saw his father for who he really was.

“He wasn’t the person I thought he was.”

She watched Arthur quietly as he struggled for words, her thumb stroking the back of his hand. Maybe something positive could come out of this. 

“He - He said he loved me yet he was willing to kill the people I love. He was going to kill you and that would have killed me.” He turned his hand over and held hers tightly. “That isn’t love. He tried to get me to be the kind of king by scaring me. And that’s how he ruled Camelot - through fear.”

“You don’t rule through fear.” She squeezed his hand.

“No. I’m not my father.”

“And despite what you think, that doesn’t make you weak. Your people are happy and Camelot is at peace.”

A tiny smile flickered on his face. “You would think I would know that by now.”

“Sometimes, you’re not the smartest person around.”

The smiled widened slightly. “No. That’s why you’re around.” He sobered and looked at her with concern. “I’m so very sorry Gwen that you had to go through that.”

“Your father never cared for me. It’s the third time he’s tried to kill me and probably the closest he’s come to succeeding.” She tried to say it lightly but her words were still laced with bitterness. 

His eyes dropped and he slipped his hand from hers. “He’ll never hurt you again. I’m sorry.” Then he looked up and Gwen could see the regret and pain in his eyes. She stood slowly and moved to him, gently easing herself onto his lap. His arms went around her, holding her close and he touched the bump on her head. 

“Does it still hurt?” She nodded. He smoothed his fingers over it gently. “I love you Guinevere.”

“I love you too Arthur.” She lowered her head, burying it into the crook of his neck as his arms tightened around her waist. For a very long time, they sat entwined, enjoying the fact that they were alive and together.


End file.
